


Injury

by TheIceQueen



Series: Tired of fighting [9]
Category: The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Agony, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Backstory, Boys In Love, Caretaking, Confessions, Crying, Cuddling & Snuggling, Desus - Freeform, Developing Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fear, Fear of being tied up, Fear of doctors, Fear of hospitals, Forehead Kisses, Gunshot Wounds, Holding Hands, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Kissing, Latrophobia, M/M, Medical Trauma, Men Crying, Merinthophobia, Nervousness, Nicknames, Nightmares, Nosocomephobia, Pain, Painkillers, Panic, Panic Attacks, Permanent Injury, Pet Names, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Secrets, Sleepiness, Sleepy Cuddles, Trauma, Veterans, fear of restraints
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-16
Updated: 2018-05-22
Packaged: 2019-05-07 19:00:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14677437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheIceQueen/pseuds/TheIceQueen
Summary: -- Timeline: Little over half a year into their relationship. They have lived together for three months.--Daryl's old knee-injury is acting up, and Paul have to tread carefully, not to tear up other old wounds.





	1. Chapter 1

”Hey, Dee! Where’re you at!?”

“Kitchen!”

Paul dropped his duffel-bag in the hall and went to see what Daryl was up to, but he already knew. If his boyfriend was in the kitchen at this time, he’d caught something on his hunt. Paul just hoped it wouldn’t be as messy as last time, they had a cold-room for larger pray, that was way easier to clean than the kitchen.

Daryl was at the kitchen island and to Paul’s relief he only had enough meat to fill a chopping board.

“You’re early, Rovia. Everything alright?”

“Just fine. Had a few cancelations for private lessons today. They said there’s some kinda thing going around at base, but I’m betting they’re just tired of getting their asses kicked.”

Daryl chuckled and put the last of the meat in a box and in the fridge, then cleaned up.

“Should we grill those on the fire pit down in the clearing later?” Paul loved the calm clearing on the far end of their big garden, it was a ten minute walk from the house and it felt like it was just the two of them alone in the whole world down there.

Daryl looked like he considered it thoroughly and then shook his head. “Can we just stay here? I’m beat.”

“Sure thing Tiger.” Paul pecked Daryl on the cheek. “I’m grapping a quick shower then we’ll put on a movie if you’d like.”

* * *

When Paul came back down, Daryl was on the couch. Paul sat down next to him and leaned against the bigger man. Daryl hissed and shifted his position.

“You, alright?” Paul sat up and looked worried at Daryl.

“I’m fine, just a little sore. How about you? Any new bruises?”

Paul shook his head and leaned back in the couch. “Nope not today.” He never came home with injuries, but his job did gift him with some marks once in a while.

Paul looked at the clock on the wall. “It’s kinda late and to be honest, I’m starving. Maybe we should eat first, and then settle on a movie after.”

“Yeah, I’m kinda hungry too.” Daryl got up but, once again failed to hide the strained breathing from the movement.

Paul looked investigative at his boyfriend as he walked to the kitchen. “Dee. You’re limping. What happened?”

Daryl stopped by the kitchen table and supported himself against it. “Nothing happened. It was a rough one today that’s all. I’m just sore. It’ll be better tomorrow.”

After spending almost every day for half a year together, and living together for three months, Paul could easily detect when Daryl was lying, and this time there was no doubt. He avoided eye-contact and had this over-exaggerated easiness to his voice.

Paul walked up to him and put a hand on his shoulder. “Where’re you hurt, Tiger? Back, ankle… or the knee?”

Daryl had problems with his knee. Paul had never witnessed it to be more than a stiffness in the morning and sometimes when they had been outside in the cold for too long. He remembered the first time he noticed the almost ten inches long scar on the inside of Daryl’s knee; the look on Daryl’s face, when their eyes met, had left no room for questions. Daryl never talked about it and Paul didn’t press the issue. He knew it had something to do with why Daryl had money. A lot of money, enough to buy this house and rebuild some of the rooms to fit their wishes, like the cool-room and walk-in freezer for big pray, and the basement for play.

“You worry too much, Rovia.” Daryl padded him on the cheek like he’d been a little child and went to get the meat from the fridge.

As Paul chopped the vegetables and cooked the pasta, he watched Daryl closely while he was frying the skillfully cut filets. He was more and more convinced that it had to be the knee, he was obviously favoring his right leg.

They sat down to eat in silence, which was out of the ordinary. Daryl wasn’t a big talker, but Paul was and there would always be joking and talking about the upcoming weekend.

“Dee. I can see you’re hurt. Isn’t there something I can do to help?”

Daryl looked at Paul. He tried to conjure up that easiness again, not quite succeeding. “You just be you, Hot-Stuff. That’s more than enough.”

“C’mon, Dee. I can…”

“Drop it!”

Daryl looked firm at Paul. A look Paul only had seen a few times, and he knew that he would get nowhere fast if he tried again so he dropped the topic, for now and tried to get a conversation about something else started, but Daryl answered everything in one-syllable-words. After dinner Paul offered to take the dishes and asked Daryl to pick out a movie. While loading the dish-washer, he watched Daryl limp to the TV-set. Daryl wasn’t afraid of pain, in fact he handled it better than Paul. He’d re-set his boyfriends elbow more than once without Daryl even complaining. His stomach hurt. Why wasn’t Daryl able to accept his help?

Daryl hunched down to grab the controller under the TV and groaned loudly and clutched on to the TV, almost pulling it down in the process. Paul was behind him in an instant, both arms under his armpits and pulling him up before he fell all the way to the floor.

“I’m good. I’m okay.” Daryl regained his balance and shook Paul’s hands of him.

Paul stepped back. He was starting to get really worried but gave Daryl space to move. Daryl took one step on his right leg and gasped loudly as he almost fell over again. Paul hastily stepped in front of him and caught Daryl, chest against chest, holding him with both arms around his torso.

“Hey, hey. You can’t walk on that.”

“I just need a second. I’m fine.” Daryl started to stand up again, but this time Paul didn’t let go completely.

He stood face to face with the hunter and had a firm grip on both sides of his ribs. “Let me help you to the couch.” Daryl shook his head and opened his mouth to speak, but Paul cut him off. “It’s not up for negotiation.”

After a few seconds of staring-contest, Daryl let Paul wrap his arm around his waist, and pull one of Daryl’s arms over his shoulders and neck. It wasn’t more than seven or eight steps to the couch, but Daryl put little to no weight on his leg, so Paul was almost carrying him there. Daryl sat down with a muffled groan.

“Lay down, you need to get that elevated. I’ll get some ice.”

Daryl didn’t move and when Paul came back with the ice he was still sitting straight up in the couch.

“Babe. You’ve got to let me help you here.” Paul dropped the ice on the coffee table and hunched down in front of Daryl. He took Daryl’s hand and noticed the small flinch as he came close to touching his knee.

Daryl’s breathing was faster now, and Paul realized that this could very well end with a panic attack. One of the first nights they’d spent together Daryl had had a nightmare that had resulted in a panic attack. Paul had only seen it twice since then and it’s been months since the last one.

“Dee, Babe. You need to calm yourself down a bit. I wont do anything if you don’t want me too.”

Daryl nodded and seemed to calm down a bit. “I’m okay Paul, I am.”

Paul looked him in the eyes for the first time since he’d come home and saw the nervousness hiding in the deep blue.

“But, you’re not.” He lifted Daryl’s hand with both of his and kissed it lightly. “How about you lie down and put the ice on yourself? I won’t touch your leg at all. Can you do that?”

Daryl took a second to think it over and then started to shift position so there would be room for his long legs. Paul grabbed a few pillows from the other couch and stacked them where his knee would end up. He watched Daryl fight the pain as he lifted the leg up and he had to physically fight the instinct to help him.

Finally, Daryl collapsed and landed his head on the pillow Paul had placed for him, panting and looking to the ceiling. Paul moved a strand of hair from Daryl’s eyes and made him look at him.

“Okay?”

Daryl nodded, still catching his breath. “Okay.”

Paul handed him the ice-pack and helped him sit a little, so he could reach his knee. The hunter held the ice a few inches from his knee and froze. Staring firmly at the hurting joint.

“Need me to do it?”

Daryl shook his head fast, still looking at the knee. “No… Don’t.”

It wasn’t nervousness in Daryl’s voice anymore, it was fear. Paul quickly kneeled down and placed a hand on Daryl’s shoulder and one in his hair. Just to let him know where his hands were, and that he wasn’t doing anything. Paul could feel his heart beat inside his chest. He hated that Daryl was afraid of what he might do.

“It’s okay, Hon. Take your time.”

Daryl took a few deep breaths and then slowly placed the ice on his knee. He held back a moan and only a short exhale was forced through his nose. He relaxed back in the pillow under his head and let his hand fall across his chest. Paul took it and felt it shake slightly.

“I’ll grab you something for the pain.” Paul started to stand but Daryl squeezed his hand tighter. His boyfriend was still breathing slightly too fast and seemed to have trouble getting enough air down.

“You need a minute?”

Daryl nodded and bit his lover lip. It was a clear tell, he always did, when he didn’t know what to say or do.

“Okay, Tiger.” Paul settled down. “You take your time to calm down.”

Daryl looked at Paul. There was an apologetic look to his face. “Paul…”

“It’s fine Hon. You don’t need to explain. Just relax and I’ll get the codeine when you’re ready.”

Daryl nodded, and it looked like he did his best to relax, but the look on his face was still there. Like he was sure Paul would demand an explanation or leave.

A few minutes later Daryl’s breathing was almost back to normal, except that he was still in pain. He shifted a bit and hissed with a grimace.

“Can you manage to lie here alone for a second while I get the painkillers?”

“Marcy…”

“She’s not here for another hour, you don’t want to wait that long.”

Marcy was their domestic worker, she wasn’t working Fridays, but she had her own room and always came back from her parents at eight o’clock.

Daryl nodded and let go of Paul’s hand. Paul all but sprinted to the bathroom and got the pill bottle and on his way back he grabbed a bottle of water from the kitchen.

He slowed his movements when he got closer to the couch, afraid to startle Daryl. He didn’t know why his injury would make him react this way, but he certainly didn’t need to add to the problem.

“Hey. Can you sit up for a moment?”

Daryl started to push himself up, and Paul supported his back.

When he’d swallowed the two pills and drunk almost a quarter of the water, he was panting again. Paul tried supporting him in lying down, but Daryl wasn’t going along with it.

“Lay down babe.”

Daryl shook his head and Paul once again didn’t know what to do. Daryl couldn’t sit like this, he was tensing up, his leg too, and it was visibly painful.

“Dee. You don’t have to tell me anything before you’re ready to, but I do need to know what you’re scared of might happen. I can’t help you like this.”

Paul waited for what seemed like forever, holding Daryl up in this uncomfortable position for both of them, but he could see Daryl was thinking, so he gave him time.

“If I lie down, as soon as the pills are working, I’ll fall asleep.”

“Wouldn’t that be a good thing?”

Daryl bit his lip.

“Dee?”

He shook his head. “I need to make sure what’s happening. I can’t just let them…” Daryl stopped himself. He must have realized that he was talking about people that wasn’t there. He looked down at his hands, holding on tight to the cushions to hold himself up.

Paul’s stomach was hurting more now, and he was sure that, if he didn’t have to manage what little control he had of this situation, he would throw up.

Daryl was starting to shake and get heavier to hold. “Paul…”

“Okay. Okay.” Paul got up from his knees and lifted Daryl’s torso higher to maneuver himself to sit under him. “Come. Babe. Lay down… please.”

Daryl tried to hold himself a little longer but eventually he had to give in to Paul pulling his shoulders down. Carefully, Paul made sure his boyfriend was comfortable with his head in his lap, looking up at him.

“I know there are things I don’t understand, but I’m here. I’ll be here if you fall asleep and no one, not even me, will touch your leg. Okay?”

“Okay.” Daryl looked down at his leg and shifted a bit again. He hissed from the movement but was clearly too uncomfortable to lie still.

“Hang in there Tiger. The pills work fast.”

Daryl nodded, and his head felt heavier on Paul’s thigh. Paul placed his hand in the middle of the hunter’s rapidly moving chest and massaged his sternum lightly with his thumb. A moment later he felt Daryl inhale in a small fast gasp, almost undetectable. He leaned in a bit to see his boyfriend’s face and sure enough, there was a tear rolling down one cheek.

Paul bend down and just barely managed to kiss the older man on his forehead. “Hush, Hon. You’re safe.” He brushed back Daryl’s hair and left his hand in the dark locks, massaging his temple with his thumb. With the other hand, he took Daryl’s hand and held it to the hunter’s chest. Squeezing back every time Daryl gasped and held a little tighter.

Soon the pain killers seemed to do their job. Daryl’s hand lost it’s grip, bit by bit and his head tilted slightly to the side, but every so often he would fling his eyes open and for every time his breathing would get a little faster.

Paul would squeeze his hand and tell him over and over again, lastly only whispering, that he was safe. Eventually Daryl’s body gave in to the pain-free drowsiness, and he fell asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

The dear was a beauty, it was the biggest Daryl had seen all year. He was slowly moving upwind but hunched and stayed when the buck walked into the light of the clearing ahead. He had a perfect line of sight and with the breeze being almost none existing he was sure of the kill. The crossbow was steady in his hands and the dear was not moving, too busy eating the freshly unfolded light green leaves.

Daryl took a slow, soundless breath and pressed the trigger.

A white-gloving pain burned through his knee and he fell to the ground with a scream. He grabbed his knee tight with both hands and felt the warm sticky blood already soaking his pantleg. For a split second he wondered how his arrow had hit his leg, but then he remembered the loud sound of a gun going off.

Someone had to have shot him. He silenced himself to listen, but nothing stood out. He could still hear the birds singing accompanied by the cicadas. He looked to the clearing. The damn dear was still there, unaffected, eating.

Daryl was sure he was loosing his mind. He tried to stand, but a new wave of agony tore through his knee, leg and then back. His sight blackened, and he crumbled, gasping for air.

“Dee?”

The voice was distant, but he was sure it was Paul, nobody but Paul called him Dee. Why the hell would he be out here? He sounded scared. Daryl panted, and then swallowed a few times to not throw up from the pain, and then tried to sit up to see again.

Paul was nowhere to be seen.

“Dee?”

Panic rose through Daryl’s body. Up till now he’d been in pain, confused and, if he only had to admit it to himself, maybe slightly scared, but now he couldn’t find Paul, who was obviously getting more and more scared. What if he was hurt too?

Daryl had to do something. Lying on his side and with the help from one leg and the arm not holding the crossbow, he slowly moved to the nearest three, and used it to get up. He growled and moaned from pain, when he moved the knee, but he had to get up. When standing he could see the clearing and part of the woods. Daryl’s heavy panting and Paul’s yelling, which seemed to be coming closer, stood in contrast to the mockingly calm scene of birds, sunlight and that fucking dear, now just looking at him.

“Babe!” Paul’s voice was high pitched in terror, but it was closer.

Daryl still couldn’t see him. He wanted to yell out for his boyfriend but no sound, but gasps for air, would come from his mouth. He pushed himself from the tree and made himself take a step. The pain from the added weight hit hard and Daryl tumbled to the ground and in a mess of twigs, grass, blood and pained screams, he rolled down a hill he didn’t remember ever seeing in this part of the woods.

When his body finally landed and was still, the world around him was still spinning. The knee was burning worse than ever and he forced a howl from his lungs of pure agony and anger. Daryl was on his back, and it took him a few minutes before he tried to move again. Nothing moved. His hands were stuck to the ground and his ankles too. Spread out like a starfish, he couldn’t move. Frantically he pulled at his joints, but he was helplessly stuck. With nothing else to do, Daryl had to accept the pain from his knee take over more and more of his body, soon the burning hot leg sent jolts of electricity up his spine and out his arms. His breathing sped up, he was freaking out. He’d sworn that he’d never let himself get restrained again, and here he was, and he wasn’t handling it at all. Daryl’s sight set out as he got either too little or too much oxygen. He didn’t know the science behind hyperventilating, he just knew he was going to pass out and he wished for it to be soon.

“Babe! Please.” Paul was back. He was yelling. Right next to him.

Daryl took a big breath and held it to listen. He opened his eyes wide, but still didn’t see anything but shadows.

“Daryl!”


	3. Chapter 3

“Daryl!”

Paul had resorted to shouting Daryl’s real name, noting else had worked. His boyfriend had been screaming in his sleep and now he was sweating and hyperventilating, still not reacting to Paul’s calls or to the violent shakes he tried to wake him with.

“Daryl! Babe! Babe wake up!”

The larger man had been difficult to hold steady, and Paul had been contemplating for a while if he should move to stand next to him instead, but had decided against it. He was sure that even a second of letting go of his shoulders and waist would let him roll of the couch. Now however, Daryl was still, hyperventilating and shaking his head violently, but his body was frozen, so Paul moved out from sitting under his head, and pulled the coffee table close and sat on it.

“Dee, Daryl! Listen to me. It’s a dream…! Babe, wake up!”

Paul held Daryl’s head steady in his direction and prayed for him to open his eyes. Daryl’s breathing was dangerously fast, and Paul wondered if he could pass out when already sleeping, and if that happened, would he just start over when he got to be sleeping again?

He got nose to nose close with the gasping man and tried to talk more calm.

“Dee. Please, open your eyes. It’s me, Paul. Your Rovia, remember?”

Daryl stopped fighting the hold Paul had on his head and Paul felt a little glimpse of hope that this could have an end.

“Babe. Open your eyes. Look at me.”

Still gasping for air and completely ridged in every muscle, he flung his eyes open and looked straight at Paul. The fear Paul met was enough to make his insides shatter.

“Dee. You’re safe.”

Daryl grabbed Paul’s upper arm and looked at his own shaking legs. His knee had fallen from the stack of pillows and the ice pack was on the floor. Daryl’s breathing got worse and Paul tried to turn his head away again, but he didn’t let him.

“Dee…” Paul brushed a hand lightly over Daryl’s cheek, and moved into his line of sight. “Look at me Babe. You’re safe.”

Daryl looked in Paul’s eyes.

“Can you hear me?”

Daryl nodded, but his eyes and breathing was still wild with horror.

“It’s over. Take a deep breath.”

Daryl nodded again and a few seconds later he took a breath that could almost be considered deep.

“Good Dee. Again. Calm down now.”

Paul had buried his hand deep in Daryl’s hair and was massaging his scalp slowly, the other hand was resting heavily on his chest. Daryl slowly calmed down and eventually his body relaxed and stopped shaking.

“You’re good Babe. Just relax now.”

Daryl turned his head slowly and looked into the backrest of the couch. He shoved Paul’s hand from his chest and shook his head lightly to indicate that he wanted that hand gone too. Paul sat back and looked at his strong boyfriend close himself away from him.

“Dee?”

Daryl turned his head even further away.

“Hon. What do you need?”

Daryl waved his hand for Paul to go away. Paul felt his heart sink to his gut. Once again, he could do nothing at all and he had to accept that for now, no matter how much he wanted to climb the couch and spoon the hurt man.

“Okay, Tiger. I’ll give you some time.” He picked up the ice and stood up. “I’m not leaving the room. I won’t leave you alone, if you’ll sleep again.”

Paul walked to the intercom-system by the door and pressed the all-call button. “Marcy? Sorry to ask, but can you help? I’m in the main room.”

“ _Of cause, Jesus. Be right there.”_

He hated to disturb Marcy on her day off, mostly because he knew she was never going to say no.

Within half a minute Marcy was by the door, with both of her arms behind her head, still making a ponytail.

“Sorry. Were you getting ready for bed?”

Marcy smiled. “No, just watching a show.” She looked at the ice pack in Paul’s hand. “Are you hurt?”

Paul looked back to the couch. Daryl hadn’t moved. He gestured for her to step back a little and he followed with a few steps, still not leaving the room.

“No, Daryl was a little too eager on a hunt. He’ll be all good tomorrow. Would you be so kind to get some more ice and find the wheelchair? I think it’s still in the play room.”

“Of cause.” She took the melted bag from Paul and smiled apprehensive, Paul was sure she knew something was up. Paul could have fetched those things himself, and she was bound to have seen the worry in his face. “Anything else?”

“No thank you so much Marcy.” Paul almost didn’t manage to make a smile before she had run off to get the stuff.

When alone, Paul stood still looking at Daryl on the couch. He could only imagine what he had been through to make him react like this from a sore joint. The nightmare was the worst he’d witnessed, it was clearly set on by the hurt knee, but thinking back over the months they’d had together and the three months in the house, they had seemed to come more frequent.

“Here you go, Jesus.” Paul was startled by Marcy already back at the door. She rolled in the chair with a cooler in the seat. Paul wondered why she would bring a whole cooler and looked in it. There was three bags of ice, two bottles of lemonade and four of the sandwiches she’d made for Daryl’s hunting trip. She always made too much food.

Paul hugged her quickly. “Thank you. Now go enjoy the rest of your show.”

She smiled and looked over at the couch where Daryl was lying just as the last time she saw him. “Just call me if you need anything.”

Before Paul could tell her thanks again and that they’d already gotten more than they needed, she’d ran down the hall towards her room.

* * *

Paul decided to leave the chair by the door and only bring over the cooler. He sat down on the coffee table again.

“Dee?”

“Just leave. I’ll be fine.”

Paul swallowed and had to consider leaving him, but he physically couldn’t move. He was going to be there.

“Dee. You don’t have to tell me. You know that. You don’t even have to look at me, but I’m not leaving you when you’re like this.”

Daryl turned over, slowly, careful not to move his knee too much. He looked angry, frustrated, but Paul’s eyes welled up from the look of a cornered animal in Daryl’s eyes.

“I don’t need help Rovia. I’m good.”

Paul pushed the table back and kneeled on the floor to get closer and line his head in the same height as his boyfriend’s. He rested a light hand on his shoulder and ignored Daryl’s obvious attempt to avoid touch.

“I know you’ve done this alone before, and you’ve done alright. But you don’t have to anymore.”

Daryl was going to turn back to face the backrest, but Paul strengthened the grip on his shoulder and took his hand.

“I’m not going to demand answers, or judge, or even pity you. I have baggage too, you know that. Hon… Just let me be here.”

The shoulder under Paul’s hand relaxed and Daryl looked down. Paul squeezed his hand for a second and when he loosened his grip, Daryl grabbed it as he was scared he would let go completely.

Paul nodded and straightened his back. He could do something now. He knew that it was highly unlikely that this would help in the long run, but tonight he could help his boyfriend, even if he decided not to talk to him at all.

“Do you want something to drink? Marcy brought us lemonade and even sandwiches if you’d like.” Paul opened the cooler before Daryl could object, and with the bottle right in front him, he didn’t seem to be able to say no.

Daryl tried to push himself up to a seated position but didn’t quite get there because of the knee. He hissed and if Paul hadn’t caught him, he would have fallen to the floor.

“Okay. Easy. Let me help.” He got on his feet and reached for the pillows next to the leg.

Daryl tensed and grabbed Paul’s elbow to keep him from the leg. “I’m just moving the pillows to the table. No one is toughing your leg, remember?”

Daryl nodded and slowly released Paul’s arm. Paul leaned down to the frightened man and kissed him lightly on the lips and took a few seconds to look him in the eyes. “You’re in control okay?”

Paul received the first smile since before dinner and he physically felt it warming his whole body, making him untense slightly. He reached for the pillows and Daryl let him take them and move the coffee table to the edge of the cushion. Daryl nodded, and Paul stepped back, once again fighting every muscle and bone in his body to not help him lift the leg.

When Daryl was situated with his entire leg supported with pillows on the table, Paul sat down next to him and handed him the lemonade, which he drank greedily. When he’d emptied half of it, he put the bottle on the lamp table next to the couch and leaned back, closing his eyes.

“What do you want me to do?” Paul was insecure about the whole thing. He wanted to get some ice on that knee again, but he knew that Daryl had to make the decisions.

Daryl didn’t open his eyes or speak. He only took Paul’s hand in his and held it. Paul could have wished for nothing more.

For a few minutes they sat there in silence, but soon Daryl started to shift in discomfort. His knee was obviously still bothering him.

“You need the ice, babe?”

Daryl shook his head and squeezed Paul’s hand as if to hold him in place. Paul moved up to sit side against Daryl and put his arm around his shoulders. “Okay. You just tell me if you want me to get it. You can take more painkillers in half an hour too.”

Daryl inhaled sharply and held it for a few seconds before his breathing continued, but fast. “No. Rovia. I don’t want it.”

Paul nodded, mostly to himself since they both were facing the TV. “Your choice Tiger.” Paul tried to sound like this was an everyday thing, like deciding what to have for dinner or what movie to watch, but he was sure the nagging thought in his head had blurred his attempt.

“Dee…” Paul waited for Daryl to hum in response. “Can I ask you something? It’s okay if you don’t want me to.”

Daryl was quiet. His hand was moving a little in Paul’s, but he didn’t let go. Then he took a deep breath almost sounding annoyed. “Sure. What is it?”

Paul swallowed, and moved back a little so he could look at Daryl, who was still sitting with his eyes closed.

“The nightmares… they are getting worse, aren’t they?”

Paul watched Daryl’s forehead frown and then he turned to look at him. “No. They’re not.”

“Tiger. I know this one is because of the pain, but even taking that aside, you’ve gotten them more often the last month.”

Daryl shook his head and looked down, looking embarrassed. “I haven’t. It’s gotten better actually.”

Paul didn’t understand, he knew what he’d witnessed, but he didn’t detect any lies from Daryl now. “Dee, you have to explain that to me, I know that it’s not true.”

The bigger man looked up at him and briefly found eye contact then he looked down again and Paul used both hands to hold Daryl’s one.

“I used to have them every night. More than once. Some nights I didn’t get to sleep at all.”

Paul held his breath, Daryl was opening up about something, anything, and he wasn’t going to interrupt.

“The first times we slept together, I didn’t sleep. I kept myself awake. The one time I fell asleep, was when I woke up panicking, remember?”

Paul nodded, but he wasn’t sure Daryl even saw it, he was looking somewhere around Paul’s knees.

“After we moved here, I slept when you were at work and stayed up at night, after you’d fallen asleep. I don’t do that anymore… only when I’ve had one, so you don’t think I have two or more in one night.”

Paul’s eyes were burning. He tried to speak but a lump in his throat kept him from it, so he pulled in Daryl for a hug and rested his head on his shoulder. He was thankful that Daryl finally felt that he could share and that he’d started actually sleeping in the bed next to him. However, he couldn’t stop thinking about all the times his boyfriend had lied awake waiting for him to fall asleep, so he could get up and spend the night awake, alone. He couldn’t bare to think of all the times Daryl would have woken up alone while he, was at work.

A tear rolled down his face and he hugged Daryl a little tighter before letting go. He held the hunter’s face in both hands and looked at him. Daryl was still keeping his eyes down.

“Thank you for telling me. I was worried.” Paul tilted Daryl’s face a bit upwards. “Hon, look at me.”

Daryl bit his lover lip and then looked Paul in the eyes. “You are amazing, you know that?” Paul placed a kiss on Daryl’s lips. “It was brave to let me see the nightmares.” He kissed him again. “Thank you for letting me help, just a little.”

Daryl hugged Paul tight, and Paul felt the bigger man shake from crying. He rubbed his hand firmly on Daryl’s back and cradled his head.

After a few minutes Daryl calmed his crying and pushed himself back. He had lines from tears over his cheeks and his eyes were read. Paul thumbed away the last few teas and kissed his forehead.

“You wanna go to bed?”

Daryl nodded, but looked at his leg. Paul rubbed his shoulder. “Don’t worry. Marcy brought the wheelchair up.” Paul got up and got the chair. When he came back Daryl hadn’t moved.

Paul took a hold on the table and waited for Daryl to lift the leg. Once the table was out of the way, Paul helped Daryl in the chair, without touching his leg. It took some time to get it on the foot-rest, but he got there, and Paul gave him the cooler to hold.

As he wheeled him to the elevator, Paul thanked his lucky star that Daryl had been okay with installing an elevator in the old house. Paul had argued that when they got a domestic worker, she would have to climb the stairs too many times in a day, but truthfully, he knew it would come in handy, when going from the basement to the bedroom after scenes and playtime.

* * *

Daryl got himself positioned upright against the headboard and Paul brought over the sandwiches. As they ate Daryl started to shift again. Letting out small moans of pain.

“Dee. How is the knee? Did you hurt it seriously?”

Daryl smiled and looked at Paul, rubbing his hand. “No, Hot-Stuff. It’s just overworked. It’ll get better.”

Paul trusted that. Daryl didn’t seem like he was hiding something anymore.

“But…” Daryl let go of Paul’s hand. “…it might be good to cool it.”

Paul looked at his boyfriend and watched him send a nervous smile. He went to get an ice pack from the cooler and watched Daryl get himself lying down. Paul handed him the ice pack, but Daryl put it on the nightstand. He opened the button in his pants.

“We should sleep soon; can you help me?”

Paul’s heart skipped a beat before he gathered himself to help Daryl get out of the jeans. He rolled him a little to one side, to get them over his ass and then to the other. Daryl’s jaw was locked, from anticipating pain. Paul let him relax a second before bending his good leg and helping it out of the pantleg.

“You sure?”

Daryl took a deep breath and nodded. Paul knew it wasn’t the pain, but maybe fear of some memory that scared his otherwise so brave boyfriend. Carefully, Paul pulled the pantleg from the ankle and all the way off the long leg.

Paul looked up at Daryl. He was tensing and had his eyes locked firmly at the ceiling. He climbed into bed and mowed close to Daryl.

“Babe. Relax now.”

Daryl’s body went limp and he closed his eyes slowly. Paul reached over him and once again handed the hunter the ice. Daryl looked at it and then handed it back and nodded.

“Want me to…?”

Daryl nodded and clenched his jaw again. Paul pushed himself further up, brushed a hand through Daryl’s thick hair and smiled encouragingly at him.

He reached down.

“Wait!” Daryl grabbed Paul’s arm and Paul froze.

“Take your time hon. I’ll wait.”

Daryl leaned back on the mattress and took a few deep breaths. “Okay.”

Paul took Daryl’s hand with his free and extremely slowly placed the wrapped bag on the knee. Daryl crushed Paul’s hand stronger than ever and closed his eyes. He was breathing controlled through his nose, clearly concentrating on keeping his calm. Paul covered both of them with the big comforter and put his arm under Daryl’s head and wrapped the other over his chest.

“Shh. You’re safe.”

Daryl eventually relaxed and pressed the side of his face to Paul’s chest.

“Rovia?”

“What is it?”

“I was tortured.”

Paul’s whole body shook. He gasped and had to concentrate to make a full sentence. “Hon. You don’t have to.”

Daryl took hold on Paul’s hand resting on his chest and continued; “On my last deployment, there was an ambush. My knee was busted, and they got me. The beating wasn’t so bad, but the bench-vise on my knee…”

Paul could hear Daryl fighting not to cry.

“They had me tight up for four days before the camp was found and I was taken to a hospital. I was dumped there. No one spoke English, only that language, the resistance group who took me, spoke. When they tried setting my leg I fought them, and they restrained me.”

Daryl gave in and started crying, soon he was sobbing. Paul pushed himself up on his elbow to look down at the veteran, but Daryl looked away, so he quickly laid down again and settled with holding the trembling man tight.

“I… I don’t know how long I was there, the lawyer calculated it to around four weeks. The people who picked me up had to sedate me to strap me down in the helicopter.”

“Hon. I’m so sorry…” Paul had to breathe deeply before continuing. “I need you to promise me something.”

Daryl pressed himself tighter to the smaller man and moved their intertwined hands closer to his chin.

“Babe. I don’t want you to get up at night anymore. If you don’t want to sleep, I’ll stay up. But no more sleeping in the living room or waiting till I’m not here.”

Daryl stilled his crying and whispered. “Okay.”

Paul could swear he head relief on Daryl’s voice. He lifted his head and kissed his boyfriend’s forehead. It suddenly made sense that Daryl refused to see a doctor when he’d gotten the flu last month, even though it had been really bad.

“Babe…? Do you think it would be a good idea with some more painkillers before we get some sleep?”

Daryl hesitated and then nodded. Paul reached to the floor, to grab the bottle from his pant pocket. Daryl washed down the pills with the lemonade and found his previous position in Paul’s arms.

“I’m right here all night, you just sleep.”

Paul rested his head on the pillow and when he heard the carefully controlled breathing relax, and Daryl’s head felt heavier on his arm, he felt a tear rolling down to hit his hairline just under his ear. Paul didn't sleep that night, but found himself being comfortable with just looking at his strong veteran-and-hunter boyfriend sleeping in his arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me what you think please. And don't worry, the wheelchair will be explained clearer in another part of this series.


End file.
